Say It With: OneShots Featuring Various Characters
by Hilary Parker
Summary: Sometimes words aren't enough, or perhaps they are just too difficult to say out loud, face to face. Sometimes you just have to find another way to express what your feeling. Ratings range from K to T. Chapter 8: Say It With Chocolate
1. Shoes

**Disclaimer: Primeval and it's characters belong to ITV. I assume Jimmy Choo owns the name Jimmy Choo. Of the two, I'd rather be ITV, but since I'm just me, I only own the computer this was typed up on.**

**A/N #1: As I say in my profile, I'm new to . Moreover, I did not join with the intent of writing and posting anything. I simply needed Primeval fics, in particular Jess/Becker fics, to go along with my new obsession with the show. Then the ideas started flying and this one in particular insisted on being written. Now it's insisting on being shared. I will take constructive criticism to heart and consider making changes as a result; I just ask that you be gentle, if not kind.**

**A/N # 2: This is set post series 5 and may contain minor spoilers. It definitely contains a hint as to the way I see the events inside the ARC unfolding before the team showed up to deal with the predators and get Connor's anomaly.**

**A/N # 3: A HUGE THANK YOU TO Sarcastic Bones for providing Beta Services! YOU ROCK!**

_**Say It With Shoes**_

"JESS!" Becker's head flew up at the sudden cry that had come from the middle of the room by the ADD, his hand automatically reaching for a weapon he didn't currently have on him.

While not as hysterical as her cries of pain and fear just days before, the high-pitched squeal still put his heart in his throat and he was by the Field Coordinator's side in mere seconds. He had her turned to face him only a moment after that, one hand at her shoulder and the other at her waist, when he realized that today's outburst was one of joy. He was struck breathless by the radiant smile that lit her entire face, as something jabbed his side then raked along his abdomen.

"Ow, Jess-" he started, hands moving to hers.

He realized what he'd just been assaulted with even as she exclaimed, "New shoes!"

A short step back, and he looked down to see that Jess was indeed holding a pair of black and shockingly pink heels in the hands he now held cuffed lightly at the wrists.

Before he could speak, she gave another squeal and shook off his hands, shoving one of the offending objects at him.

"They're gorgeous! Aren't they gorgeous? Undo the zipper on that one, yeah?" She asked, already toeing off the lime green snake skin stilettos she'd worn to work that morning.

Before Becker could even begin to make enough sense of what she'd asked to notice the zipper down the front of the shoe he held, she had the other one undone and had twisted forwards and sideways to bend over and slip her foot inside.

Being presented with the unexpected sideways view of her back and the curve of her floral print covered bottom had his throat going dry and Becker completely forgot all about the shoe-zipper, hot pink trim and all.

"Uhm..." Before he could even form words, she'd stood back up and taken the other shoe, too eager to get the shoes on and take them for a spin to even realize he was staring and speechless.

Of course, it didn't matter that he couldn't find words since she was still talking a mile a minute.

"-And they're Jimmy Choos! Oh, and they fit like a glove! And it's not even my birthday! And they're neoprene so you could even say they're practical - I should be able to run in these no problem. And they're Jimmy Choos! And wait, I said that already… and aren't they just brilliant?"

She had walked to the far side of the room, and back again, as she chattered away, and all Becker could do was watch.

When she stopped just in front of him, the thousand watt smile back and her petite frame practically vibrating with excitement, he almost- _almost_- reached for her. Even as his muscles twitched, with the need to somehow capture the beautiful creature in front of him, a familiar voice to his left shattered the moment, making Becker realize where they were and that they most certainly weren't alone.

"Just nod your head, and say '_yes_'_,_ mate," Matt advised with a knowing smirk.

"You might want to take a breath, too," Emily added as she brushed past him to step closer to Jess, already complimenting the shoes and making a fuss, as only another woman could.

"Closing his mouth would probably be a good idea too," Connor added, even as Abby reached up and tapped Becker's chin to encourage just that.

"Careful Becker, someone might get the idea that you fancy her," Abby teased, then moved to join Jess and Emily, who were now a foot or so away.

"You lot are a riot," The soldier growled, heat creeping up his neck as he struggled to put the mixture of affection, admiration, and -yes, okay- lust away in a mental lock box - a box which was getting harder and harder to keep the lid on, much less keep locked, since Jess' two near death experiences not even a week before.

Sometimes he forgot why he was even fighting the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him so much lately, but he knew for certain that if he finally chose to act on them he'd rather it be a choice and not a knee jerk reaction.

And he sure as hell did not want this _'lot' _as an audience when he did so.

Before he could decide if he should excuse himself, preferably without using the need to do some 'security stuff' as an excuse, he noticed that Connor was now poking around the tissue-paper-filled gift box at the ADD.

Then Emily voiced the question the younger man was no doubt trying to figure out, "Who are they from, then?"

Jess looked up from admiring the shoes to take in all of them. Shy eyes briefly darted towards Becker, then back to Emily and Abby. "I haven't a clue. The gift was just sitting in my chair when I got here. I thought maybe one of you all..."

She trailed off as heads shook and Matt responded for the group, "I am pretty sure designer foot-ware is outside even our combined gift budgets."

"There's a card here," Connor offered, holding up a cream coloured envelope.

Before he could open it - or damage it in some way - Abby moved to him and plucked it from his fingers. She held it out to Jess but the younger woman shook her head, long fingers suddenly twisting nervously in front of her, curious and, for some reason, a little apprehensive. It really was quite an expensive gift, one she probably shouldn't accept.

"You open it."

"You're sure?" The blond asked. When Jess just nodded, Abby lifted the flap on the small envelope and saw just one line of carefully scripted calligraphy,

"_Do try not to throw this pair."_

Abby read the cryptic message aloud, and then turned the card over for the others to see. "There's no name."

It was obvious to all, though, that the words meant something to Jess as she gave a startled '_oh!_', one hand going to her throat and the other enfolding around her waist.

Becker got the sense that she had suddenly gone somewhere else mentally, emotionally. He was beside her immediately, one concerned hand on her shoulder even as she blinked the lost look away, a tear slipping free as she did so. "Jess?"

She smiled then: a tremulous, delicate smile; heartbreakingly beautiful; full of innocent affection. But not for him, or any of the others standing around her. No, her gaze went to the glass wall between Ops and James Lester's office.

Their boss sat at his desk on the other side, his feet on his desk. What appeared to be a new bottle of whiskey sat in front of him, an amber filled glass in hand.

Their gazes met and held for a long moment, then Lester raised his glass in a silent salute and Jess' smile grew as her head dipped in a near imperceptible nod.

In the next second the moment was broken as Connor asked innocently, "So who are they from then?"

_fini_

**A/N: So yeah, that's my first attempt at a Primeval fic. I sincerely hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed getting it down on 'paper'. OH, and if you want to see the shoes: http:/www(dot)/product/177409**


	2. Adrenalin

**Disclaimer: Primeval and it's characters (still) belong to ITV. I (still) only own the computer this was typed up on.**

**A/N #1: To everyone who reviewed chapter 1 and/or added it to their favorites/alerts, "THANK YOU! from the bottom of my heart. It really meant a lot. **

**A/N # 2: **I actually meant for this to be chapter 3 but chapter 2 isn't written yet and really, these aren't gonna fall timeline wise in any particular order so it doesn't matter. **  
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**A/N # 3: Thanks again to Sarcastic Bones for being such a wonderful beta! YOU (STILL) ROCK!**

_Say It With Adrenalin_

The first one was sitting on the side table when she woke up from a three-hour nap in medical.

How she had managed to fall asleep with repairs going on around her was beyond her _not-quite-awake_ brain's ability to comprehend, but sleep she apparently had.

And while she was out, someone had apparently left her a gift.

Bemused and feeling somewhat better for the rest, along with the fluids being pumped into her via an IV line in her left hand, Jess picked up the oblong package. It wasn't overly large- no bigger than a bar of her favorite chocolate, though somewhat thicker. It was wrapped in heavy white paper and when Jess turned it over the small, blocky print on the bottom brought a soft '_Oh_' to her lips.

_Keep this with you at all times._

_That's an order._

_Becker_

_That's an order._

For just a moment, Jess found herself awash in the phantom sensation of strong, warm arms around her, and Becker's voice from above, saying those exact words.

She felt almost bereft when it faded and annoyed that she was missing chunks of time from her earlier ordeal during the beetle incursion. She remembered getting bitten, of course; his killing the queen, explaining her allergy, and Becker taking charge of getting her to Medical. She remembered being tucked against his side as they made their way through the ARC, one hand clutching his chest and the other his side as she struggled to breathe, and put one foot in front of the other. She even remembered being swept up in arms and carried the rest of the way once the light fixtures starting exploding around them.

Things started getting hazy then, and the next clear memory she had was of waking up in the safe room, half in Emily's lap with Becker hunkered over her, his hands providing the most amazing warmth as one clung to hers and the other rested on her knee.

At the time, she hadn't really understood his expression, and she still wasn't sure she fully did, but the look in his eyes - the joyful relief on his face - had warmed her even more than his touch.

Then, both were gone with the excuse of _'security stuff' _to do.

It had made sense at the time, but now Jess couldn't help but wonder if that was the best he could come up with.

"And now, this," she thought, with a happy little inner squeal of delight.

She carefully opened the present, determined to preserve the note. What she found inside brought the squeal to the surface as an outright giggle and Jess wasn't sure which she found more touching, the fact that he'd given her a new epi pen, or that he'd used part of a paper shooting target as gift wrap.

The second one was in her locker when she went to gather a change of clothes and her toiletry kit so that she could freshen up in the ladies showers off of the co-ed locker room. It was sitting on the top shelf, unwrapped with a sticky note on it:

_This one is to stay right here. – B_

Jess couldn't help but snicker as she sat the first gift next to the second.

The 'wrapping paper' she had carefully folded back in medical was placed in the small wooden chest that sat on the next shelf. It held a few special keepsakes and jewellery to match the various outfits she kept at work for changing if she were going out somewhere directly from work (which didn't happen often) or if she spilled something on herself (which, unfortunately did).

Next, she considered the selection of garments, eventually settling on the only pants there - buttery soft legging trousers in a delicate, pale yellow. They would hide the bruise that had formed on her thigh where Becker had injected the life saving adrenalin. She paired them with an equally soft tunic that started off the same shade of yellow at the neckline and flowed down to a deep orange where it brushed her thighs. It would match the jewellery and shoes she was already wearing.

Not even twenty minutes later, Jess was showered and changed, had replaced her makeup and headed out of the locker room. Though she had orders to go home, she wanted to check on her beloved ADD first - assure herself that it was being brought back to working order.

And if she happened to bump into a certain black-clad man doing '_security stuff_' first, all the better.

The third one was waiting for her at the ADD.

No sticky this time, but Jess was amused to find it was taped securely to the bottom of a monitor. The view on the screen wasn't blocked, though it was currently nothing more than a black background with text scrolling along almost too fast to read.

As such, the white box with black print detailing the medication it held managed to look as if it belonged.

_Still, the Captain was getting dangerously close to overstating his point, _Jess decided as she settled into her chair with an amused smirk.

She checked the status on the system diagnostics that somebody - Connor, no doubt - had started, and then just sat back, trying to decide if she would get away with just staying at work.

Surely staying until Abby and Connor were ready to go home wouldn't hurt anything?

She really didn't trust herself to drive just yet and it wasn't as if she could actually do any work with the ADD in its current state. She could go to her office and work on reports, but the thought just held no appeal. She could help with the cleanup of the dead beetles, but that thought just made her shudder in revulsion.

"I would rather face an escaped Dracorex again," she muttered under her breath, idly playing with the original epi pen gift.

"Talking to yourself, Jess?"

At the familiar voice, Jess looked up to find Matt approaching, her face turning a delicate shade of pink. "You caught me," she responded, glad it hadn't been Becker. "How is the clean up going?"

"Well enough," Matt responded as he studied the young field coordinator. "A better question is how are you feeling? And why have you not gone home?"

"Well enough," Jess parroted back at him in response to the former question: to the latter she gave a little shrug as she said, "But not really well enough to drive just yet."

"I'll take her."

The offer and its source took Jess by surprise. _How had he managed to sneak up beside her in the short amount of time she'd been talking to Matt?_

"That's not necessary, Becker," Jess said hurriedly. Suddenly not ready to face the man who had saved her life, she gave him just a shy glance before turning her attention back to their team leader. "I was just going to wait until Abby and Connor are ready to go home."

"I don't think so, Jess," Matt responded with a shake of his head. "Lester made it pretty clear to me when I briefed him earlier that you were to follow Dr. Wyler's orders, and the good doctor made it clear that you should be home resting for at least the rest of today. He did say you should be fine for tomorrow so, if Becker has the time, let him give you a ride." He looked to the soldier then, unable to resist getting in a little dig, "That is if you don't have more _'security stuff' _that needs doing…"

"Nothing that can't wait an hour," Becker growled with a glare for the Irishman. He rested a hand on the back of her chair, and Jess could feel the warmth radiating off him.

Smirking, Matt shifted his attention to the young woman, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Go home and rest, Jess. We need you well."

"Alright then," Jess agreed reluctantly, glancing up at Becker with a shy smile. "If you're sure you can spare the time."

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't, Jessica," the soldier responded patiently.

She nodded in response and turned back to the ADD, determined to check on the diagnostics one more time before she left. As she scanned the monitors, her gaze fell on the epi pen taped there and then to the one she'd set at the corner of the station. Becker's large hand was resting beside it.

With his other hand still on her chair, Jess found herself somewhat boxed in as she finally looked up at him. "Thank you, for the pens. And for, the pen. Earlier. I mean for risking yourself to get my pen. From my car. Emily said—"

"It's fine, Jess," Becker interrupted gently, and she could tell he wanted the subject dropped as he added, "It's my job."

Refusing to be disappointed by the attempted brush off, Jess squared her shoulders and looked up at him. "I know. And I know you would have done it for any of us, but you didn't do it for any of the others, you did it for me. So thank you." She turned her chair towards him then, and slipped off so that she stood in front of him.

He was forced to take a step back or she'd have been in his arms, and Jess took a measure of satisfaction in seeing his olive complexion flush as he looked down at her.

Though Becker tried to hide it, she could see concern for her in the hazel eyes she loved so much, and - dare she hope - desire.

Smiling as an idea suddenly struck her, the tiny brunette held the soldier's gaze as she placed a steadying hand on his chest and stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Then she handed him the epi pen in it's cardboard packaging. "Why don't you keep this one with you _'at all times'. _You'll worry less and the rest of us won't be finding epi pens everywhere we look."

_fini_


	3. A Hug

**Disclaimer: Primeval and it's characters (still) belong to ITV. I (still) only own the computer this was typed up on.**

**A/N #1: This one is really short, and I'm not 100% certain it's done, but at the same time, my insticts are screaming "POST IT NOW, before you screw it up by over analyzing it!" As such, it's not been to the ever-amazing Sarcastic Bones for beta. I did however, remember to spell/grammar check it.**

**A/N # 2: This was not one of the planned chapters I have mentioned, so hopefully there's at least one or two more to come. **

Say It With a Hug

Becker drew Jess into his arms, stoic mask slipping into an actual smile as she settled against him as if there was absolutely no place in the world she would rather be. Which, if he were being completely honest with himself, the soldier could admit there probably wasn't.

He had known for a while that Jessica had a thing for him. That couldn't really even be considered a secret, not that she had ever blatantly thrown herself at him—Chinese takeaway at a stake out not withstanding. She just hadn't bothered to hide the fact either.

He, on the other hand, was the one that insisted on keeping secrets. Feelings tucked so carefully away that most of the time he even had himself convinced that Jessica Marie Parker was just a friend. No, not even that. The lie he told himself and anyone else that dared to suggest otherwise, _"She's a teammate; a coworker."_

Right. Jess was an easy-to-talk-to and even-easier-to-tease, coworker. She was a pretty-enough-but-entirely-too-young-for-him, funny, and most-definitely-brilliant-at-her-job coworker. And if he enjoyed teasing a smile or a blush from her every now again, there wasn't a thing in the world wrong with that. After all, she could, and most often did, give as good as she got.

Such were the lies he had told himself—to keep the secret.

Secrets had a way of getting out though, and once free, putting the genie back in the bottle was nigh impossible. And exhausting. And Hilary James Becker was tired of trying to deny that he fancied, the tiny, inappropriate-footwear-loving twenty year old. He had nearly lost her twice, in the span of just a few days. The Captain had long ago accepted his own mortality, but faced with hers, the man was hit with the realization that having kept her at arms length wouldn't have made loosing her hurt any less.

Which was how he came to be standing in the middle of the ARC's coed locker room, Jess snug in his arms, his lips pressed to her hair, completely and utterly content.

_fini?_

_A/N #3: Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews, favorites, and such on chapter 2. Y'all are making my muses quite happy. _


	4. A Kiss

**Disclaimer: Primeval and it's characters (still) belong to ITV and if they don't give us another season I'm going to be so seriously unhappy with them. I have just the rest of this weekend with series 5 available OnDemand and I'm already missing it.  
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**A/N #1: As it says in the title lines, this is a continuation of "Say It With A Hug". For those who wondered how they came to standing there in that moment hugging, I will apologize for still not providing an answer. I have a idea though, that might turn into a prequel to this to maybe answer that question. We shall see if the muses will cooperate and let me writ it.  
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**A/N # 2: Thanks to both Sarcastic Bones and SAndy Lee Potts for betaing this one. You gals are the best!  
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Say It With A Kiss

_(A continuation of "Say It With A Hug")_

Jessica Marie Parker was, in a word, confused - _thrilled-beyond-measure-deliriously-happy_ confused.

Captain Hilary James Becker was a soldier. Soldiers saluted, they slapped backs or shoulders for 'jobs well done', exchanged high fives when things went well, maybe shot one another a thumbs up.

But it was her impression - based almost entirely on observing this soldier and the men and women under his command - that soldiers did not hug.

So no, Captain Becker did not hug.

Oh, he had, on occasion, joined in celebratory _'thank God you/we are alive'_ hugs, but those were brief and tended to end abruptly and awkwardly the moment the soldier realized he was sharing body space with someone else.

And yet, here she was, secure in the warmth of his arms in what, if it went on for much longer, was in danger of shifting from hug to an out and out snuggle. With every breath she was awash in his unique scent - a subtle and clean soap (not aftershave or cologne, she was certain) underscored by the faint aroma of gun power.

_And who would have ever thought gun powder could be an aphrodisiac?_ Jess thought to herself, unable to resist pressing closer.

Becker shifted his own stance, to accommodate the change in hers, and in the next moment the entire context of the embrace changed: what before had felt purely emotional became charged with sexual awareness as well and Jess' heart was suddenly racing.

She felt, as much as heard, the change in Becker's breathing pattern as his arms tightened around her. Jess thought for sure he'd push her away then, that things would go all awkward - she actually tensed expecting just that, when his hands slid up her back to her shoulders.

Instead, he nuzzled her hair aside, his breath warm against her ear. Stubble grazed her jaw, followed by lips that soothed as they traced their way to hers and the tension evaporated in a rush of pleasure.

As kisses went, it was incredibly sweet and gentle, almost hesitant, as if Becker expected her to pull away. His hands had slid so that his thumbs caressed her jaw line, his fingers in her hair, and Jess sighed as his lips left hers.

He tilted her chin up slightly, and she opened her eyes to find him watching her, uncertainly.

"Hey."

It was so typical of Becker to underscore such an intense moment with that one word that Jess couldn't help but grin as she repeated it back to him.

"Hey."

He smiled then, hazel eyes alight with relief, and his lips found hers again. There was no hesitation this time, and by the time they came up for air Jess had finally managed to get her hands in his hair.

Becker grinned as he set her back on her feet. His hands slid up her back to her shoulders then up her arms to grasp her wrist. "Happy now?"

"Umm, yes, quite," Jess agreed with a cheeky grin of her own.

She gave his soft, chestnut locks a slight tug before forcing her fingers to disentangle themselves. She rather enjoyed watching his expression change from smug satisfaction, to renewed desire, to blatant disappointment as she drew her hands down. Brightly painted nails massaged scalp, skimmed ears and traced the cords of his neck before she placed her hands flat on his chest and pushed lightly.

He let her go, but she got the sense that it was with reluctance and she couldn't help but give into a silent squee as she faced her locker.

She realized a moment later that Becker had been allowed to witness the gleeful look in the mirror fixed to the inside of the locker door. So, of course, she blushed.

_Damn him, anyway._

She forced herself to ignore the once more smug smile the Captain wore and focused on her disheveled hair and swollen lips. A deep calming breath - or three - allowed her to run a brush through her hair, smoothing it out. She considered refreshing her lipstick but feared her hands wouldn't be steady enough to do the job right.

_Besides, if I have my way, it would just end up smudged all over Becker before long anyway._

The thought had her suppressing a giggle as she grabbed her jacket and the small handbag that matched her lavender and pink Manolo Blahniks.

Turning, she found Becker leaning against the wall just beside the door to the locker room, arms crossed over his chest. He had shrugged into the red and black plaid jacket that she was starting to suspect was the only color the man had in his wardrobe and Jess decided he looked more relaxed than she could ever remember seeing him.

When he smiled and held his hand out to her, Jess' heart soared.

_Finally._

_fin_


	5. Whiskey

**Disclaimer: **

**_Primeval, James Lester and Jess Parker_ belong to ITV. **

**_Gerry Santini and Adelia_ belong to me, I guess, though at the moment they are nothing more than extras. **

**_Colleen Lester_ belongs to the brilliant Sarcastic Bones, and if you haven't read her fic, "Lester's Two Wives", I strongly recommend you check it out for a proper intro to James Lester's better half. **I am extremely honored to have been allowed to write Colleen into this fic.**  
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**A/N #1: This story is dedicated to Sarcastic Bones (with thanks for the beta as well as the loan of Colleen!) and SAndy Lee Potts for giving me some suggestions that got me past a bout of writer's block. I adore you both!**

**A/N #2: This isn't what I had originally planned for 'Say It With Whiskey', but my Lester muse insisted. I hope you all enjoy it!**

_Say It With Whiskey_

The days following convergence, the destruction of New Dawn, and the demise of Phillip Burton had been tediously long for James Lester. Conference calls and face-to-face meetings with various Home Office and Prospero representatives took up the bulk of his time.

When not dealing with that lot of prats, there were cover stories to assist with, reports to be filed, the ARC cleanup and reconstruction to oversee and debriefings to sign off, if not sit in on; one for each and every member of the ARC staff. And, oh yes, because heaven forbid they should get a break from the everyday normal tasks at hand, anomalies to deal with.

_Perhaps thinking of the days as 'tedious' was being too kind, Lester thought with a resigned sigh._

The days certainly had not been healing, as the continued pain in his side could attest to. And, to make matters worse, someone had now seen fit to inform Colleen of his injury. He would quite cheerfully throttle the culprit, once he had convinced his wife to divulge her source.

Of course, that would mean speaking to her in a civil tone and, just now, that was not going to happen.

Later, he'd probably be able to look back on that moment when she had stormed into the Prime Minister's office as a magnificent display of everything he secretly adored about his wife.

Later.

Just now, though, he was silently fuming over her imperious announcement that "her James" was done for the day and was going home to rest and heal. She had then ushered him from the office and down to her car as if he were nothing more than a sick child being picked up from school.

_And you just followed along like a bleeding docile child, he scolded himself as he watched Colleen competently negotiate the heavy midday traffic._

But, of course, making a scene at Downing Street just was _not done if one intended to hang on to one's post. Or any other post, for that matter._

No, he would have his say once they were safely behind closed doors.

Colleen knew him well enough to know his moods and said not a word on the drive to the apartment they maintained in the city. He was relieved that she hadn't truly meant to take him home, since that would require more than an hour long drive to get to the stately home where they had chosen to raise their three children, outside the city.

His brittle anger was already proving painful to hang on to, the tension it held causing his side to scream.

He climbed from the car, under his own steam, before she could come around to try and help him, and brushed off her _oh so solicitous and concerned hand._

Colleen, thankfully, got the message and allowed him to make his own way across the car park, onto the elevator, and up to their apartment. She didn't hover, instead allowing him a full two feet of space, her hands primly folded behind her back.

The moment the apartment door shut behind them he rounded on his wife, scathing diatribe blistering his tongue with the need to purge.

The look in her green eyes, the slump in her always-perfect posture as she leaned against the closed door, brought him up short. The sarcasm and anger faded to distasteful ash in the face of her distress and, in the next moment, the space between them was gone, Lester not quite certain who had moved first.

How long they stood there in the foyer, secure in one another's arms, neither could have said afterwards. For his part, Lester felt himself truly relaxing for the first time since the convergence had started.

With that relaxation, came the unavoidable acceptance of the one truth he had been steadfastly ignoring in that same period of time: his life had very nearly ended less that seventy-two hours ago. If anything, the thought had his grasp on the woman in his arms tightening and his lips finding hers.

James was suddenly grateful to whoever had alerted Colleen to his injury and relieved to be able to finally let his guard down. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers, amber eyes staring into green.

"Right then," Colleen finally said, breaking the spell and taking a step back and taking control. She kept one hand on his shoulder and the other at his uninjured side as she sized him up, before ordering, "Off to the shower with you, then bed I should think. I will ring Santini's and order up dinner, then bring you a tipple and see to re-bandaging your wound."

He considered arguing - or a sarcastic retort - for half a second, but decided he didn't really have the energy and that a hot shower and a stiff drink would both be truly welcome.

Leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss, he surprised her with a completely sincere, "Yes dear," before walking away.

Colleen watched him go, making sure he was out of sight before she reached out and placed a steadying hand flush against the wall, letting her chin drop to her chest as she blinked back tears. Holding him, feeling the press of bandages between them, the faint tremble in his limbs that spoke of the pain and exhaustion he had to be feeling, had driven home just how close a call this had been.

The thought of how close she had come to losing him, how close her babies had come to being fatherless, was gut wrenching.

Finally, when she could hear the shower running and she felt certain she had regained control, she moved into the living room and across to the well stocked bar. She mixed herself a gin and tonic with one hand as she picked up the cordless phone and dialed a number she knew by heart with the other. As it rang she took two gulping swallows of the drink, allowing the smooth burn to calm her more.

"Santini's."

The cheerful, chirping voice was at once irritating and familiar. "Yes, hello, Adelia. This is Colleen Lester, I would like to place the usual order for two to be delivered in an hours time."

She agreed that the card on file should be charged and had the young woman confirm what 'the usual' entailed. Once she was certain that the meal would be prepared and delivered as requested, Colleen hung up the phone and considered the array of Irish whiskeys her husband favored.

There were currently two open bottles: one the single malt Michael Collins that she knew he drank daily - there would be a bottle quite similar to this one in his desk drawer at the ARC; the other open bottle was the slightly more pricey Greenmore single grain that he tended to drink when he wanted to sit back and savor his drink.

She reached for the Greenmore then changed her mind, instead shifting both bottles aside to reveal an unopened Bushmills 1608 that was his favorite. He'd last opened a bottle on their tenth anniversary just a few months prior.

After pouring his drink and refreshing hers, she put both on a tray along with the bottle and carried them through to their bedroom. The sight that greeted her there had her tsking and shaking her head at her husband's uncharacteristic sloppiness. He was either in a lot more pain than she'd realized or more disturbed by recent events than he would ever want anyone to know.

_Either way, he needs to be taken in hand and I am just the woman for the job, Colleen thought to herself, setting the tray on the dresser and taking another sip of her G&T, before moving to pick up the dirty clothes and put them in the hamper. She picked up two empty glasses from the oak nightstand and took them to the kitchen, then came back to make the bed._

By the time James stepped from the bathroom, wearing dark blue and gray striped pajamas, the pants low around his hips and the shirt hanging open to reveal his bandaged side, she had the covers turned back invitingly, extra pillows piled against the headboard. The bedside lamps were lit, the one on his side of the bed uncovered to provide ample light for her to see what she was doing whilst she tended to his recovering wound.

From where she sat at the foot of the bed, Colleen held out his drink and he crossed to take the whiskey from her, moving with slow care. When he went to sit down, she reached out and took his hips, drawing him forward and slipping her arms around to hug his waist lightly. She was careful to keep her arms low, riding the same line as the waistband of the flannel material, as she rested her cheek against his uninjured side.

James settled his free hand at the curve of her neck reassuringly as he took a sip from the glass and realized exactly what she had given him to drink.

A sardonic grin twisted his lips as he looked down at the crown of her head. "Perhaps I should get injured more often."

No sooner had the thought struck him, than Colleen sat up straight, pushing him back as she did so that she could look up at him.

The stiff-lipped glare she aimed at him made him realize he'd said the words out-loud and he shook his head.

"Joking darling, only joking," he promised.

"Yes well, you, dear, should stick to sarcasm and leave the humor to others," She admonished, punctuating the words with a slap to his hip before turning him slightly to stand so that she had a straight-on view of the bandage covering his injured left side. "Now stand still and drink your 'rudding whiskey'."

Her husband did as ordered and Colleen focused on keeping her hands steady as she carefully peeled away the wet bandage and bit back a gasp when the wound beneath was revealed.

She knew if she looked up at James she might lose the tenuous hold she had on her control, so instead she carefully picked up the antibiotic ointment Dr. Wyler had prescribed.

It looked like he'd been stabbed, then the knife had been dragged up at an angle as it was pulled out, leaving an angry jagged gash that had been closed with several stitches and several more butterfly bands. The surrounding skin was an angry red, the warmth she felt there indicating at least a minor infection, so she made a mental note to be sure he had been taking the oral antibiotics the doctor had prescribed as well.

Watching her work, James sipped the whiskey, savoring the toffee-like flavor and trying not to flinch from her touch.

By the time she had the last of the white tape pressed into place, he had finished the drink and was looking forward to pouring another glass. When she pressed a kiss to the skin just above the bandage, he decided he much preferred her care to that of the medical staff at the ARC.

Not that he would ever admit it.

A soft melodic chime was heard through the apartment just then, and Colleen's hands were once more at his hips, urging him to step back so she could stand. She smiled at him then, and placed a kiss on his cheek, plucked his glass from his hands and gestured towards the bed. "That will be dinner. We'll make an exception and eat in here tonight, so into bed with you, then. I'll refill this when I come back."

He started to protest that he was perfectly capable of pouring his own 'rudding whiskey' but she breezed out of the room, taking the glass with her. He was left with little choice but to settle himself into the bed, sitting up against the pillows and headboard.

Once she'd collected their dinner from Gerry Santini himself, thanking him profusely but gently cutting off the attempt at polite conversation, Colleen moved into the kitchen. She took the time to transfer both meals to fine boned china that had been a wedding present from James' mother, gathered utensils from the silver drawer, and poured herself a glass of wine.

As she arranged everything on a dinner tray, she considered how best to get the whole story out of her husband, determined that before they settled down to sleep tonight she would know exactly how he had been injured and what was going on with the ARC and it's mission.

An hour and a half later, James Lester's belly was pleasantly full and, thanks to several glasses of his favorite whiskey, he was feeling very little pain.

And all without having to take the prescribed pain medication that would just mess with his head.

Colleen was cuddled into his right side, her head on his shoulder.

As promised, she had poured him a second drink to enjoy along with the veal involtini she had ordered in for dinner and they had talked about the kids, who were with her sister. Over a third glass of whiskey and tiramisu, she had managed to get him to give her the bare bones facts of how he had been injured.

His wife knew, of course, the ARC's purpose. She understood and accepted that the men and women who worked for him put their lives on the line everyday. She was not keen on the idea that what was ostensibly a desk job - his desk job - could sometimes be just as hazardous as that of a field agent, but she had accepted that as well.

Still, he glossed over the worst of the facts and tried to down-play his own actions, not about to admit to her that he had put himself between a vicious predator and the young field coordinator Colleen had personally picked for the job.

Jess' actions however, he now found himself being a good deal more forthcoming with, over a forth glass.

"She thew her shoes at the creature," he admitted with something akin to awe in his voice. "She fired the EMD at it first, of course, but the bloody thing was out of energy after one shot, and so she threw it at him, then her shoes. You'll be proud to know that she's got deadly aim with them. The shoes I mean. That turned the creatures attention to her and-"

He broke off then, tossing back the rest of his drink in one swallow, not tasting it at all. Colleen allowed him the moment, refilling the glass and realizing with surprise that the bottle was getting close to empty. Somehow, without quite meaning to, she was well on her way to getting her husband quite drunk.

"And..." she prompted him gently.

"It turned on her and, somehow, I'd managed to hang on to the power cell and a weapon of my own. I shot it, then ordered Jess to get to my office and barricade herself in, but she isn't very good at following orders, you know."

The last came out like an accusation and Colleen just knew he was reminding her, without actually saying the words, that she had chosen Jess Parker for the job. It was a vindication of sorts, given that both James and Philip Burton had questioned the recommendation. "She wouldn't leave you, I take it?"

"No more than she would have left Becker that time she managed to insert herself into his stakeout and ended up diffusing a bomb," Lester grumbled. "She doesn't seem to have an ounce of self-preservation, sometimes."

"Oh, I'm quite certain she was protecting herself both times, James," Colleen countered. "There are some pains worse than death."

That statement was more than his alcohol-clouded mind could fathom just then, so Lester just took another sip of his whiskey and continued with his story.

"She got me on my feet and we tried for my office, but there was no way I was going to manage the stairs. So she chose a spot where she could put her back to a wall - just a column, mind you - and settled in to wait. Whether we were waiting to die or be rescued, I still don't quite know, but she refused to leave me to my fate alone. Too damned loyal and stubborn for her own good, that girl."

"She was very brave," Colleen agreed, taking the glass from his hand and gently stretching over him to put it on the nightstand. She kissed his cheek then, and settled back against his shoulder. "I saw that a letter of commendation has been placed in her file, but perhaps some sort of personal thank you is in order?"

"Two in fact, one written by myself, and another the Prime Minister," Lester replied, his voice drowsy. He had insisted on that, along with letters for each of the other members of the Alpha Team.

They bloody well deserved something for saving the world.

Still, he couldn't help but think that his wife was right and a more personal thank you was in order.

"What does one give to say '_Thank you for not leaving me to bleed to death or be eaten by a horrible monster, so as to save yourself', do you think?" he asked drily. "Flowers and chocolates?"_

Collen rolled her eyes. "James, dear, you give your _secretary flowers for Admin's day. Jess Parker is certainly more than a secretary, and her actions were way above and beyond the call of duty."_

"You're right, of course," he agreed, reaching for the bottle tucked between them and taking a sip directly from it. "And I suppose chocolates, even if Jess is rather fond of them, are her and Captain Becker's thing. Somehow they seem wrong for me to give her."

"You've worked with her for nearly two years now, James. Surely you can think of _something she would truly enjoy, as a proper thank you?" Colleen's prompt was paired with crossing her legs and settling one foot on his shin, in an attempt at a hint._

Staring at the stocking toes resting just beneath his knee, it did finally hit him. "Shoes! Our Miss Parker has a thing for shoes."

"Then shoes it shall be," Colleen agreed.

She shifted then, sitting up and taking the bottle from him.

She studied its contents and then took a sip herself before leaning in to kiss her husband lightly. When he went to wrap his arms around her and deepen the kiss she shook her head.

"You are pissed, darling, and in need of a good night's sleep. I'll see to the shoes and tidy up, you stretch out here and rest. I'll still be here in the morning," she added, the words as a promise.

"Yes, dear."

_fini_

**A/N #3: I am officially looking for prompts if anyone has any ideas they'd like to see me try my hand at.**

**P.S. to Sandy Lee Potts, I'm going to start work on 'Chocolate' next.**


	6. Best of Intentions

_**Say It With The Best of Intentions**_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of value, least of all Primeval. That privilege belongs to ITV.**

**A/N: I know Valentine's has come and gone, but better late than never right? This chapter and the next are a result of the prompt of 'Chocolate' from SAndyLee Potts. Thanks SAndyLee! I'll try not to take so long getting the next done and posted, but real life can be a bear sometimes.**

**A/N 2: And to my wonderful beta, Sarcastic Bones, as always, You Rock!**

_February 13th_

"You do know I'm not a complete moron, right?"

"Of course you aren't," Abby agreed, her tone placating. "As soldiers go, I would even be willing to admit you're pretty bright. Usually."

"Gee, thanks," the soldier muttered, cutting an annoyed glare at the blonde before turning his attention back to the traffic ahead of them.

"Look, Becker, all I am saying is, now that you and Jess are, well, '_you and Jess'_ you can't just treat it like it's any other day. You are going to need to put some thought into it."

_This is why getting involved with a work mate was a bad idea_, Becker thought irritably. _Nosy coworkers._ "It's Valentines Day, Abigail, the holiday invented by greetings card companies, florists and candy makers. I know Jess' taste in all three. How hard can it be?"

"Okay, I was wrong - you _are_ a complete moron," Abby muttered under her breath, realizing she was going to have to spell it out for her romantically and emotionally challenged friend. "This is _Jess_ we're talking about. She's the most hopeless romantic I know, worse even than Connor and-"

"Hopeful."

"-that's sayin... wait, what?" Abby frowned, not sure she had heard right.

Only just realizing that he had said the word aloud, Becker strove for nonchalance as he responded with, "Jess is a '_hopeful_' romantic."

Abby couldn't help but laugh. But she stifled it quickly when a death glare was aimed her way.

She settled for smirking at the fact that the soldier had just paraphrased a line from one of Jess' favorite movies to describer her. "My god, Becker, there's hope for you yet."

"Again: gee, thanks. Can we be done with this conversation now?" he asked as he navigated the SUV into the ARC's garage.

"Nope. Not until you hear me out," the zoologist argued.

With a resigned sigh, Becker parked in his usual spot and turned the key to the off position before crossing his arms on the steering wheel and resting his head on them.

The anomaly and incursion call out that they were returning from had been (blessedly) fatality free, but herding several hundred small horse-like creatures - Connor had declared them Epihippus from the Eocene - back through had been exhausting, dirty work. Becker wanted a shower, clean clothes, and a few minutes with Jess - preferably alone - and not necessarily in that order.

"Fine. Get on with it."

_Why am I even bothering?_ Abby wondered for just a moment. She glanced down at the two earpieces she held, having snagged Becker's off his ear before starting this conversation in the first place. _Jess. Right then._

"Okay, here's the deal: Jess is excited about Valentine's. Really excited."

Abby paused there, as if to let that comment sink in, and Becker rolled his head so that he could look at the blond, one eyebrow raised. This was not news to him.

Had he not been the one to get roped into helping her decorate the ARC two years running now? Not even Lester's disdain and annoyance could dampen Jess' enthusiasm for placing heart and flower decals on every available window, balloons and floral arrangements in the break room and canteen.

Abby ignored the look and continued, "It's your own fault really - you give her chocolates every other day, just about, and flowers when you pick her up for a date. It's sweet, but it means you're going to have to up your game tomorrow. The same old chocolates and flowers aren't going to do."

Finally understanding what had prompted this conversation, Becker stifled a resigned sigh.

Sitting upright, he twisted to reach over the seat for the package he had gotten when they'd stopped at a confectionary on the way back from the incursion site. He pulled the tissue-wrapped box out of the bag and placed it in Abby's hands, his stoic soldier mask firmly in place.

It was heavier than she would have expected a box of chocolates to be, and when she carefully peeled back the tissue she saw why.

Long fingers delicately traced along the lid before lifting it.

Abby stared at the contents for several long moments before quietly closing the lid and ever so carefully wrapping the tissue paper back around. When she offered it back to Becker with an approving smile, he realized he had been holding his breath, awaiting her reaction.

Embarrassed and trying hard not to let it show, the soldier carefully slid the gift back into the bag, put it on the back seat and slid the jacket he'd tossed in the back earlier on top. He got out of the SUV without a word and started inside but Abby's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

When she stepped up beside him, and then lifted up on her toes to kiss his cheek, he blushed.

Abby grinned, pressing his earpiece into his hand. As she sauntered away he heard her say, "There's definitely hope for you yet."

* * *

><p>"Action Man."<p>

"Temple," Becker growled, frustration mounting at the interruption. "Can I help you?"

He didn't bother looking up from the computer screen.

Not that maintaining focus was all that big a deal when he had yet to add a single word to the form he had supposedly been working on for nearly a half hour; the form that was supposed to reduce writing reports to near fill-in-the-blank simplicity.

"Actually, I'm here to help you, mate," Connor responded with a grin as he invited himself inside and slouched into the only extra chair in the office - a stylish black leather armchair that Jess had insisted on requisitioning just a few weeks after he came back to the ARC, insisting he needed somewhere for a guest to sit.

Of course, the majority of 'guests' to his office were soldiers, who stood either at attention or parade rest whilst present. Even Matt would just lean against the door jam or a wall on the few occasions they had chanced to meet in here. Until Abby and Connor had come back only Jess had ever sat in the chair. Now nearly a year had passed and he still thought of it as Jess' chair.

Shaking off that train of thought, Becker just looked at the other man.

A full minute ticked by before Connor grew uncomfortable enough with the silence to stop picking at a loose thread in his shirt hem and start rambling.

"Abs, Emily and Jess are doin' the girly thing tonight, yeah? Gettin' ready for tomorrow. So I figured us men could do the same- Well, not the _same_. I mean, not nothin' girly... I mean, we're guys. Right? So yeah, guy stuff. Go get them cards and such, then hit a pub. Have a few pints. Play dar-"

"Connor." Becker interrupted, using his stern soldier's voice. The irony of the situation unfolding before him would have been amusing if it wasn't so pathetic.

"Yeah?"

"_Tell me_ you didn't wait until the night before Valentine's Day to get your fiancée a card and gift."

* * *

><p><em>fin<em>


	7. A Mossberg

**Disclaimer: Primeval and it's characters (still) belong to ITV. I (still) only own the computer this was typed up on.**

**A/N 1: If you don't know what a Mossberg don't sweat it, all will be revealed. I only know what one is now because I did some research. Hopefully I got it right!**

**A/N 2: This is the first time I've ever attempted to use texting between two characters as a story element. I hope it's not too confusing. All within brackets is a text with Jess' being italicized to differentiate from Becker's.**

* * *

><p><em>Say it With a Mossberg<em>

_[Are you awake?]_

The soldier stared bleary-eyed at the text message on his phone for half a minute before the sender's name registered. The moment it hit him, his feet were on the floor as he clumsily typed a response.

[Can be], he sent, then immediately followed it with, [Everything alright?]

He ran a hand over his face, mentally wiping away the dregs of sleep as he glanced at the watch on his wrist. 4:19 a.m.

He'd gotten home from an impromptu guys night out just before midnight, kicked off his boots and dropped on to the couch, debating if it was too late to call Jess. It was the last thing he remembered until the insistent vibrating of his cell against his hip woke him.

It buzzed now in his hand and he glanced down at the display.

_[Everything's fine. Didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.]_

[Too late, I'm awake now. What's up?]

_[It's Valentine's Day!]_

Becker smirked at this. Excited indeed.

[Is it? I thought it was Tuesday!], he typed as he stood and made a beeline for the kitchen.

Something told him he was either headed to Jess' or off to work early. And either way he wanted a shot of caffeine first.

_[You're not funny.]_

[I'm very funny. You're just too focused on the manufactured holiday to see it. ;-)]

He could almost hear the wheels turning in her head at that. He snickered at the fact he was able to actually get the beans ground and in their basket and the water basin filled before she responded.

He thumbed the appliance on and turned to lean against the counter before he read the latest text.

_[Wise choice of words, Captain. Pour me a cup, too, please.]_

Becker frowned, he would have found her certainty that he had some form of caffeine going already amusing if he hadn't been concerned by the implication of her requesting he pour her a cup.

[It's 4 in the morning, Jess. Do not come here. I'll come to you.]

_[You had your chance to do that last night, Hilary... Besides, I'm already here.]_

No sooner had he read those words than there was a light knock at his door. Amused and exasperated all at once, the soldier went to let her in. It took him a moment to disarm the security system and unlock the door and he could imagine her practically vibrating with excitement as she waited.

It didn't stop him from greeting her sternly the moment the door was open.

"Jessica, was it truly necessary to drive across the city in the middle of the night by yourself?"

She brushed past him with an impish grin and a blanket-wrapped oblong object hugged to her chest, making him wait for a response as she crossed the room to clear the magazines and a half-full bottle of water off the table and set the item down.

When she turned back to him, the grin had been replaced with a happy smile, and the blue eyes he loved so much were dancing with excitement as she launched herself at him.

"Hi. Becker. Sorry. I. Woke. You."

She punctuated each word with a smacking kiss, obviously in a hyper mood. She finally settled for a long, thorough kiss that had him leaning against the door for support before she finally came up for air.

"And, yes, it _was_ necessary since you didn't come over last night. But you're forgiven since you were saving Connor from making a major blunder and keeping him out of Abby's hair while she finished her prep for today."

"Abby has big plans, does she?"

He set Jess on her feet as he asked and turned her towards the kitchen and coffee. Not that he had any intention of letting his girlfriend have any. She was wired enough.

Over coffee for him and tea for Jess, they talked - well, really, Jess did most of the talking - about the previous evening. She told him about the spa she, Abby and Emily had gone to, then asked him about his own shopping excursion with Connor and Matt. Jess sat perched on the counter while he stood in front of her.

He could tell she was trying desperately to be patient and let him get his morning coffee in, but the longing glances she kept tossing toward the living room made it clear that her mind was on whatever she'd brought over in the blanket. His own curiosity finally got the better of him and he downed the last of the dark brew and rinsed his cup.

He set it on the cupboard to dry and moved to Jess, hands settling on her waist and his lips on hers for a lingering kiss, before he lifted her down to stand on shiny, cotton-candy-pink heels. They matched the trim on the black pencil skirt and jacket ensemble she wore, as well as the chunky beaded necklace and bracelet. As much as he loved her usually colorful outfits, the combination of the color she usually left to him with that glossy pink was a definite turn-on.

He lifted her back up for another thorough kiss, this time carrying her into the living room and setting her own her feet by the coffee table. "Am I to assume this is for me?"

"You are," Jess agreed, smiling that smile she seemed to reserve for him, and him alone.

Resisting the urge to pull her into another kiss, he tilted his head slightly and asked, "You do know you're not getting yours until tonight, right?"

"I know," Jess agreed breezily, as if she weren't even curious. He knew better, but let her have the illusion. "I just thought you might like to take yours to work today."

"Oh?"

"Um hmm," She pushed him towards the sofa eagerly. "Open it and see."

He made short work of the blanket, glad she hadn't actually used a wrapping paper that he'd have to take care to preserve or something.

Once the gift was revealed, he looked at her with a mock frown, a teasing glint in his eyes. "You're giving me an EMD."

It looked exactly like the gun cases the larger EMDs were kept in, when not in use, except that in place of the aluminum ident-number tag each case held was what looked like a standard circular military ident tag. Instead of the usual details were the words _'Property of Capt. H. J. Becker.'_

Feigning total seriousness, Jess nodded. "Yes, precisely. I know how much you love them, so I thought you might like one personalized."

Becker snorted at that, then smirked when he heard his girlfriend's breath hitch as he reached for the case. The obvious sign of nerves had him taking his time, running a hand along the case and his thumb over the tag, before finally thumbing the latches open.

"Oh, just open it already!" Jess groused, bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet. He could only assume she hadn't sat down beside him because she wanted to see his face when he did open it.

Shooting her an amused look, he finally lifted the lid, and in the next moment it was his breath that hitched.

He hadn't really expected an EMD, of course, but neither had he expected what he did find.

To the untrained eye it would look just like the shotgun he currently used when an incursion called for conventional firepower.

But that was a Mossberg 500 Cruiser. _This_ was the 590 Cruiser.

A twin to the first gun he'd ever owned - given to him by the Colonel, aka Dad - a workhorse of a gun made specifically for the ease of use and maintenance a soldier's life demanded; a gun that had survived his teens, and military career, only to be lost in the far-flung future.

Of their own volition, his hands reached for the shotgun nestled in felt-covered foam, even as his gaze returned to Jess, eyes bright, momentarily speechless.

Before he could get past emotions and find words, her nerves got the better of her and Jess was off on a ramble he had to struggle to follow.

"It's alright, yeah? I mean, I remembered back when you told me about giving yours to Danny. And I know you said then that replacing it would feel too much like admitting he and Connor and Abby weren't going to get home. But that was before, right? I mean, Connor and Abby have been home nearly a year, and Danny came back - okay, he left again, but he came back _first_ so it totally counts, yeah? And if you don't want it, it's alright, real-"

After several attempts to interrupt her fell on death ears, Becker moved around the table and silenced her with a kiss, claiming her lips with his own, mid-word. He held the shotgun single handedly, by the pump-action grip, snaking his free arm around Jess' waist and lifting her against him to deepen the kiss.

Her arms came up around his neck, a hand, as always, finding its way into his hair. When a happy hum akin to a purr vibrated against his tongue, the man found himself wishing he'd put the weapon down first.

Since he couldn't put it down just then, Becker decided to do the next best thing to wrapping Jess in both arms. As he held her with one arm, he moved the other in a quick, smooth movement that would have chambered a round had a magazine been in place.

Oh, yeah. The distinctive 'racking-one-up' sound was as much of a turn-on as Jess' purr.

_For her as well,_ Becker decided when Jess' nails dug into his shoulder and scalp.

Grinning, he forced himself to lift his head and wait patiently for her brilliant blue eyes to flutter open.

"Best Valentine's gift ever," he assured her. Then his lips claimed hers again as he moved back around to sit on the couch, with Jess in his lap. He very carefully leaned forward and put the 590 back in its case, safely out of the way, before proceeding to show Jess just how much he liked his present.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 3: Okay, you'll notice I didn't put the 'fin' on this one. That's intentional since there's still a little matter of Becker giving Jess her box and revealing what's inside. I hope you all aren't too upset with me for holding that back in favor of letting a somewhat overeager Jess give Becker his present a bit early.<strong>

**AN 4: I saved the thanks on this one for the end, in part because I didn't want to give away what a 'Mossberg' was for those that didn't know. To whoever it was that sent it to me, thank you for the 'Gun' prompt. I promise I will figure out who it was and thank you properly in a later chapter, but please know, this is one of two ficlets inspired by the prompt. Someday I'll finish and post the other. Thanks too, to my ever-wonderful beta, Saracastic-Bones! I'd be lost without you!**


	8. Chocolate

**Disclaimer: I only own Primeval and it's characters in my dreams. Also, I probably should have said with '…Mossberg' that I do not own, nor do I have any connection to, Mossberg & Sons, the manufacturers of the Mossberg 590 Cruiser. The use of recognizable products and properties is meant purely for entertainment purposes only. There might be one or two more mentioned here in this post.  
><strong>

**A/N: I apologize for how long it has taken to complete and post this particular chapter. For some reason, this one has been especially hard for me to wrap my brain around despite knowing exactly what was in the box since before I wrote '…Good Intentions'.**

**A/N 2: There are a couple of names mentioned here in that are taken from the work of another author here. I'm not going to say who because I want it to be a surprise and I can only hope that she'll see the use of them as the tribute they are meant to be. **

**A/N 3: One more note and I'll hush. I just want to say thank you, as always, to my amazing beta, Sarcastic Bones. Thanks also to Shooting Tigers, who also gave this an early read when I was stumped and struggling to finish it. Both of you ladies have become wonderful friends and I'm so glad I've met you. The ending paragraphs are new to y'all as I've just finished writing them. Hopefully it will make for a nice little ending surprise for you both.**

* * *

><p><strong>Say It With Chocolate<strong>

_February 14th_

Jess hummed along to the violin concerto she had playing in the background as she put the finishing touches on the dining room table and lit the candles. Once she was satisfied that the table was as elegant as it could be, she danced barefoot into the living room to do the same there. Minutes later, she was taking one final look at the romantic scene she'd taken such care to set, making sure all of the candles were lit.

The doorbell chimed, startling her into a giddy nervous laugh.

_He's here, _she thought. And then, as the efficient calm of earlier was replaced with breathless anticipation, _Oh God, he's here! Shoes! Where are my shoes?_

She looked about frantically and actually started for her bedroom to look there when another knock brought her up short.

_They're downstairs in front of the door, Jess. Where you put them so you wouldn't forget to put them on before answering._

At the top of the stairs she forced herself to pause and take a deep calming breath before carefully descending. It wouldn't do to take a klutzy turn and tumble down the stairs, effectively cutting short what had so far been the best Valentine's of her, admittedly, short life—adult or otherwise.

Becker might have stuck to his guns on the gift thing, but that hadn't stopped him from surprising her in a dozen different ways over the course of the workday: long stemmed beauties, every one. Starting with a brilliant red one lying on the dash of his car, then a pale pink waiting in her locker, orange at the ADD and purple in her office.

By the time she left for the day, she had a rainbow colored bouquet.

Plus, she'd got to spend her lunch hour in the armoury, not only watching Becker breaking in his new gun, but getting to fire off a few rounds herself. And, for once, the universe had been kind and given them an anomaly-free day. _Then _Lester had surprised them all by sending them home an hour and a half early.

Becker had dropped her at her place with a toe curling kiss and a promise to be back at seven, with dinner and her presents. Plural.

Jess had put the extra time to good use.

She'd prepped dessert and set it to chill alongside the really nice bottle of champagne her Uncle Cal had suggested, then allowed herself a bubble bath. After, she had tried on a half dozen different dresses before resorting back to the mod-Qipao she'd bought just a few weeks before, specifically for this occasion. Finally, she'd put on mood music and gone about creating a romantic setting. Her bedroom and un suite bathroom had the same touches as the dining and living rooms - just in case.

When she reached the foyer landing she rested one hand against the thick frosted glass of the door and stepped into her six-inch platform heels. She could see Becker silhouetted on the other side and nervously smoothed a hand down the silk fabric of her dress before pulling the door open with a happy smile.

"Hi," Jess all but preened as hazel eyes skimmed from her head to shoes and back again, taking in the way the rich, brown, silk embroidered with fuchsia plum blossoms and golden dragons hugged her curves; the length of bare legs elongated by the chocolate and gold suede shoes.

She knew the high neck of the dress presented a demur image despite the short length and bare arms, so she was distinctly looking forward to his reaction to the back given the appreciative glimmer in his hazel eyes now.

"Hey," Becker returned the greeting after a long moment, then he raised a brow and smirked, "I thought we were staying in."

She giggled then and stepped forward to catch his face in her hands, taking advantage of the fact that his own hands were currently full, drawing him inside and into a kiss that she had complete control of. Jess could sense his frustration when, instead of wrapping his arms around her, all he could do was shuffle close enough that their bodies brushed as he held onto the Chinese takeout in the crook of one arm and a duffle bag in the other hand.

Breaking away as he kicked the door shut with an impatient growl, and before he could deepen the kiss, she gave him a flirty grin.

"We are staying in. This," she gave a wave of her hand that was meant to encompass the dress, the upswept hair and the carefully applied makeup, "is all for your benefit alone."

"Almost a good a gift as the shotgun," Becker said with a leering smirk.

"Hold on to that thought," Jess smirked right back, blue eyes sparkling with promise. She slid one hand down his chest until she could dance her fingers along his belt, then slipped her hand along his side to the door behind him. She locked the dead bolt as she brushed butterfly kisses along his jaw, then stepped back.

"Can I carry anything up?"

"Me, if you keep that up," the soldier responded after a quick breath.

Jess giggled again, and reached for the food but Becker held on to it and tilted his head at the stairs, indicating she should just lead the way.

Just before she turned on one heel and started up the stairs, she warned, "Just remember that I offered to free a hand up for you."

Moments later, a strangled moan reached her ears as she came to the midpoint of the flight of stairs. Jess snickered with delight as she glanced over her shoulder.

Becker still had one foot on the tile floor of the foyer, the other resting on the first step. She could practically feel the heat of his gaze dance along her spine where it was expose by the oval shaped cut-out that had been the selling point of the dress.

"Alright, Hilary?"

"Uhmhm…" he managed, forcing his gaze up from just above the small of her back to her profile, and the grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. With a steadying breath he started up the stairs. "Le-lets just agree now, you only ever wear this particular 'look' for my benefit."

As soon as he was able to set his duffle on a barstool and the food on the island countertop that separated the living area from the kitchen, Becker reached for Jess. It still amazed him sometimes how easy and natural touching her, holding her, kissing her, was now when he had so long denied himself the right.

When they finally came up for air, he tucked her against his chest, his chin resting on her head, one hand tracing along her back and the other cupping her neck. "Happy Valentine's Day, Jess."

She shivered a little at the light brush of his fingers up and down her spine and sighed happily.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Becker," she responded.

It was another one of the things that both amused him and touched him deeply about the beauty in his arms. He had never dated a woman that _wouldn't _insist on calling him Hil, or Hilary, but Jess continued to prefer his surname. Oh, she would occasionally (but only in private, thank heavens) use 'Hilary' to tease, or when seriously annoyed or frustrated with him, but she had a talent for taking 'Becker' from professional courtesy, to companionable exchange, to loving endearment and verbal caress, with just a faint change in tone and pronunciation.

This one hovered between endearment and caress, and he grinned, contemplating the merits of cold Chinese in favor of more carnal delights for a long moment, before finally setting her away from him.

Jess didn't know it, but there was a game plan for tonight and he intended to stick to it, so he carefully eased her back and nudged her toward the dining room table.

"This all looks brilliant, Jess. Almost as pretty as you."

And just like that, Jess felt like preening again.

* * *

><p>They worked together to lay out the food, then Becker pulled her chair out, playfully leaning over to nip at a bare shoulder as he eased her chair in. The action served as a distraction so that when Jess actually looked at the table she was surprised to find an oblong box wrapped in white paper and topped with a red bow sitting on her plate.<p>

"Becker!"

Delighted, Jess picked the box up and turned it this way and that. She knew before she even opened it that the paper would prove to be a shooting target. He'd made a habit of wrapping every gift since that first epi pen in the thick paper.

The hand drawn hearts and flowering vines that trailed over the paper definitely weren't standard issue, though.

"It's lovely."

He arched a brow. "You haven't even opened it yet, Jess."

"I mean the paper, silly," she countered, rolling her eyes even as she began to carefully unwrap the gift. What she found inside had her squealing like a kid at Christmas. "Oh, Becker, she's beautiful! And the shoes!"

Jess held the box up for him to see, as if he hadn't been the one to choose the doll in the first place. "Shoe Obsession Barbie! She's brilliant! However did you find her?"

"If I tell you that, _you _have to tell me how you managed to figure out the model of my shotgun," Becker countered with a grin. He'd been pestering her earlier in the day and all she would say is 'I'm just _that _brilliant,' with a teasing smirk.

"Fine," Jess agreed as she studied the doll's necklace and dress, already trying to figure out if her Uncle Lorie could make a replicate of them in her size. "But you first."

So as Jess filled the fine crystal plates with prawn crackers, spring rolls, cashew chicken and stir-fry vegetables, and Becker poured the wine into matching goblets, he told her about how his niece had mentioned wanting this very doll for her birthday.

"I must have gone to a half dozen stores asking for it, before I found one that had them. And yes, of course, I bought two. I thought maybe you could go with me to her party in a few weeks? It's Barbie themed, so you'll fit right in."

Jess leaned over and kissed him on the corner of the mouth.

Being invited to her first Becker family function was as much of a gift as the doll. Still, as she drew back she couldn't help but ask with mock irritation, "So I'm a Barbie doll then, am I?"

He couldn't help but grin then, remembering a long ago conversation with James Lester. When they'd first started at the new ARC and Lester had asked him his opinion of 'our Miss Parker' and he'd responded with 'you mean field-coordinator Barbie?'

"You, Jessica, are an absolute doll, but Barbie, no. Maybe her smarter, prettier cousin," he finished, catching her hand in his and placing a kiss on her knuckles. "Now it's your turn. How did you know to get the 590 Cruiser? I'm pretty sure I never told you what kind of gun I gave Danny, just that it was my favourite shotgun. I asked Ghani and Scott, but neither of them would admit to talking to you about it and they're the only two soldiers currently at the ARC who were around back then."

Instead of answering right away, Jess stood and stepped over to her computer, where it sat on the desk that was built off the bar, separating the kitchen and dining area from the living area. She punched a few keys then turned the screen so that he could see as a picture of the old team came up. In it, he stood with Sarah, Danny, Abby and Connor. He had the shotgun in one hand, pointed up and slightly off to the side, Sarah sandwiched in between him and Danny, then Abby to the other side of Danny, with Connor, of course, next to her. They were all looking a bit worse for wear after a particularly gruelling call out. If memory served, Ghani had actually snapped the picture for Connor.

When she sat back down, Jess rested her hand on his and watched the play of emotions on his face as he looked at the reminder of friends still lost or gone forever. Once he finally shifted his attention back to her, she gave him another quick kiss before saying, "Connor found that when they were going through the stuff you and Lester put in storage for them while they were gone. Seeing it reminded me of the day you told me about giving Danny your shotgun and I realized you might finally be ready to replace it, so I got Connor to scan me a copy. I sent that to my uncle Greg in Toronto."

"Greg. He's the hostage negotiator. Not the sheep herder, publican or cabaret-singing college professor," Becker asked seriously. He had yet to meet any of Jess' uncles but he knew she had several.

"Right," Jess agreed. "My father's brother. Anyway, Greg shared the photo with a former team mate of his who knows guns. Wordy not only recognized it, but was able to connect me up with a dealer who could get me one that was even manufactured around the time yours would have been. The rest was just logistics - getting it here - which is why you didn't get it for Christmas as I'd originally wanted."

He turned his hand over under Jess' and laced their fingers together. "Have I told you lately that you're brilliant and I adore you?"

"I could always stand to hear it again," she replied, somewhat breathless.

"You are, and I do."

* * *

><p>After dinner was finished, they moved into the living room. Becker brought the duffle with him and settled on the sofa while Jess took a moment to find a home for the Barbie on her entertainment centre, before coming to stand in front of him. When he reached out a hand to caress the back of her knee before skimming it up her thigh, over the curve of her hip and settle at her waist, she grasped his shoulders for support and kicked off the shoes.<p>

The loss of height brought out a smirk from him as his other hand came up to grasp her waist as well. In the next moment, she was sitting sideways in his lap and he was nuzzling her neck as one of those clever hands trailed up her spine and down again.

Jess was so caught up on the feeling of his breath against the delicate skin of her throat and the callused fingers playing along her back that she didn't register the press of a heavy object in her lap as anything other than his arm holding her in place for several minutes. It was only when the hand on her back stilled at the nape of her neck and he moved his lips to her ear and whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day, Jess."

"Yes, it is," she agreed with a purr, attempting to capture his lips with hers, but Becker evaded, leaning back into the couch as he nudged her with the package again.

"Oh!"

The happy exclamation was accompanied by a bone-crushing hug, then Jess shifted in his arms so that she could take hold of the gift. Again the wrap was hand decorated, this time the hearts and vines created a frame around a pencil drawing of a tree with their initials carved into the trunk.

That elicited another quiet squeal of delight and a smacking kiss on the corner of his mouth, before she carefully peeled back the tape. The mahogany box which was revealed when the paper fell away was exquisitely beautiful. The same vines were carved around the outer edges of the lid and within the frame of them was a sentiment that stole Jess' breath. She traced the words delicately.

_In you I have found,_

_all I never knew I needed_

_and all I could ever want._

_"_B-Becker."

Voice tremulous and blue eyes shining bright, she lifted her gaze to his and the intensity she found staring back at her told her all the words on the box did, and more.

Lifting a hand to his face while the other rested on the box, she leaned forward and kissed him slowly and thoroughly.

When she finally drew back, they were both blinking back emotion and one corner of his mouth titled up in an endearing grin. "Don't you want to know what's in the box?"

"Hmm…" Jess questioned, obviously bemused, and Becker's grin turned to a satisfied smirk.

"It's like this, Jessica. The doll was… an appetizer, of sorts, the box a main course, and what's inside, well…" he went silent for a moment, as if wanting to be sure he had her undivided attention, his callused hand moving hers aside and then lifting the lid, "…that, my love, is dessert."

Swallowing hard, Jess finally managed to pull her gaze from his and looked down. The contents of the box had her laughing delightedly. A pair of heels that looked to be exactly her size, though not meant for her feet at all.

They were fashioned out of what Jess recognized to be strawberry cream laced white chocolate. She carefully picked one up, and realized that what appeared to be a non-peril 'clasp' was actually a dark brown cultured pearl surrounded by dark stones that sparkled in the candle light. Blue eyes, flew to hazel.

"Chocolate diamonds?"

"And chocolate pearls too, or so the jeweler says." Becker assured her as he reached out and carefully extracted the 'clasp' from the shoe in his girlfriend's trembling hands. He smirked as he pulled the 'clasp' on the 'shoe' still in the box free as well and offered them both to her in the palm of his hand.

He watched with amused affection as she carefully put the shoe she held away and then made short work of stripping her ears of the shooting star dangles and dropped them down in the box. Just as quickly she took her 'chocolate' earrings from him and slipped them on then tilted her head to one side.

"How do they look?"

The soldier leaned forward, careful not to dislodge the box from her lap as he dipped his head to her ear. "Delectable."

* * *

><p>shopdoll/shoe-obsession-barbie-doll-w3378

_**One final note on this chapter: Some of you may recognize Jess' Uncle Greg and his old team mate Wordy. They are both characters on the magnificent Canadian show Flashpoint. In my personal cannon, as I relayed here, Greg Parker is Jess' father's brother. Someday, I just might write a crossover fic to share a bit more of my cannon for Jess and how it connects her to Toronto's SRU Team One. And of course, let Becker meet the family. **_


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